


Nameless

by DeweyGreat



Category: Bleach
Genre: Soul King - Freeform, Toushirou is a zanpakutou, Zanpakutou, Zanpakutou Materialization, ichigo is a zanpakutou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeweyGreat/pseuds/DeweyGreat
Summary: [ON HOLD]





	Nameless

He looks across the expanse of worlds. He delves deeply into each of them, all special and individual. These worlds can function by themselves with no true need of his interference. Yet they are young and only just barely learning to understand their own worth. He sees their future-bright with possibility and bleak with despair.

The worlds do not need him.

When he was younger, still trying to grasp the full extent of his power, he had visited the worlds—helping them flourish and grow along with them. Some worlds declared him a higher being and made him into a deity. He did not mind what they did with his image. His purpose could be nothing else if not to serve them.

But now, as time passes—as they reach new heights, he has become a forgotten relic. He has nourished them as much as he could, but even now as he stares into the future he could do so much more. But interfering more than he has already would be walking a thin line. He sees himself, drowning in power and in despair. Too much power would break his soul.

He gazes into a world where famine and gluttony both rule and he knows that he could fix it with a wave of his hand but he does not. A worse fate waits for them if he does. Instead, he flits away over to another world dominated by plants. They thrive with the sun and moon and all turn to greet him as he enters their atmosphere.

 _Welcome, Great One,_  they shout,  _Have you returned so soon?_

He favors this world more than others, loving the balance of it. They fall to the ground, seeking warmth in an earthy womb and emerge brightly like hands reaching for the sun. And when it is time, they fall back into the earth and later surface reborn as an entirely new entity. A perfect balance between life and death. They do not crave for more than they need and are satisfied with their way of life.

He smiles down at the vibrant flower and it flutters its petals at his touch.  _I am simply watching the worlds,_  he tells them. He hides nothing from this world. If there is another reason why he favors this world it is because of their ability to embrace his thoughts.

_Dearest Great One, what is troubling you?_

_The worlds no longer need me,_  he tells them with a sigh,  _and I can no longer help them._

 _Great One..._  A tree whispers sadly. It bends over and blocks the sun from its fiery gaze, enveloping him in shadow. He smiles up at the tree, appreciating its attempts at comfort.  _Why not make your own world? You have the power to sway all worlds, making one should not be difficult._

He lays down on the soft grass, feeling tension ease from his shoulders as grass curls around his body gently.  _I cannot see the future of what is not existing. I do not know what will happen if I make another world._

 _A new world frightens you, Great One? Even though you wish for one?_  A vine asks, loosening its grip on a branch.

 _It does_ , he admits, _I would love to have some purpose._

The wind roars and he can feel its rage at his statement,  _You are needed! You are loved, Great One, by many!_

He sighs, too wistful for his liking,  _I am forgotten by many._

 _Not by us,_  the bright world wails distraught that their old friend was suffering.

He smiles lightly,  _Thank you for that._

The wind calms and the world stills, not knowing what to do.

A young flower, no bigger than the pupil of his eye, speaks up in a small yet clear voice,  _Great One, my kin and I would rejoice at the mere mention of bringing you happiness. If you so wish-if you ever do choose to make your own world-would you plant us across its surface so we may always be in your service?_

He stares at the flower in pleasant surprise. A warm feeling spreads through his being and smiles gratefully at the small white flower.  _Of course._

Then a chorus rush through his mind,  _Oh, Great One, please bring us too! And us! Do not leave us behind!_

He laughs joyously, happy at being needed or at least wanted.

_Yes, of course, I will not leave you behind._

* * *

A stirring storm a few worlds away brings his attention away from the stars.  _A storm in the middle of the stars?_

He appears in front of the storm and the wind flurries past him, carrying small white flecks that melt into his skin. He stares into the giant white mass growing before him, curious as to what it is.

As he stares into the vortex of  _snow_ , he sees a new future, unbound and unraveling. Of hope and despair, of peace and war, of life and death. Of sun and moon.

He reaches into this new world he knows— _oh, he knows_ —is made for him.

The world is cold and white and beautiful and blanketed in snow. Yet that is only on the surface. He notices the sand and  _fire_ -another thing that is unfamiliar-that melts its cold surroundings and reaches upwards. The cold reaches downwards, not caring to be melted. He feels the hot core of this world fading, so soon after its birth and he mourns for both. The cold and heat both dissipating into nothing. He hears the snowy wind wail, knowing that it can do nothing to stop the heat from fading and embraces it, slowly melting into water.  _They're dying_ , he thinks sadly.

He has never seen the death of a world and dreads the thought of seeing one so soon after its birth. So he waits until the fire burns out, the core blackened and dead, and the snow melting into streams of water to pull at them both, pushing his power through the both of them and puts the fire back into the core and freezes the watery surface.

He cannot see the future of something that does not exist, yet he has seen the future of this newly born world. He also sees its destruction and its salvation. These two elements: fire and snow are what will keep the world alive and are what will destroy it.

He smiles gratefully and accepts what is to come.  _But not yet_ , is what he thinks as he extends his hand to this new world— _no, his world._

* * *

Coming into being was a stressful experience, or that is at least what they thought.

The cold and heat had wrapped around each other, feeling a pull they could not deny. Only then do they realize that their embrace will be their death. They mourn for each unable to stop their own demise. When their existence dies out, flowing out of them in a stream, they feel power thrum through them and bring them back to life.

Something—someone—reaches out to them and promises life. They grasp the power he has given them and agrees to whatever he wishes. They are in his debt.

And for a moment, they can see it-the future.

Plants cover the surface of the world and water flows across the earth. They see the intricate layers their world will have and the people that will live upon it.

They see the war and the peace, the life and the death.

They see each other in forms they've never had. They reach out for each other, clasping hands. Something passes between them. A foreign emotion but one that seems so familiar.

Then it stops. The vision of the future dissipates like smoke. A person stands before them and speaks, "You are fire and ice, life and death, and you will be the sun and the moon that guides this world."

They accept his words without question or doubt, understanding their future from the little bit they have seen.

He holds out of his hands to them. They reach for them and their amorphous forms solidify to look like him in shape. Separate beings, they look at each other. It is a new experience, having a body.

One is clad in white and the other in black. Snow and wind circle around them gently, waiting.

They both turn to him when he speaks again in a promising voice, "You both will stand by my side and cultivate this world with me. I am the Soul King and you are my power: Heiwana Tsuki and Kuroi Taiyō."

* * *

**This book has been in my head for ages and I wanted to do something different. The basic premise was the Ichigo was actually a zanpakutou, but... this story got way more complicated than what I originally intended... I'm a sucker for romance, so be prepared for that!**

**See you next chapter!**


End file.
